Candlelight vigil honors lives of 70 homeless men, women and youths who died in 2014


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SALT LAKE CITY — He was remembered simply as Bill.

Like many of the 69 other people honored Wednesday night at the annual Homeless Persons' Memorial Day Candlelight Vigil at Pioneer Park, he was a person who had dreams and ambitions.

But because homeless people lack the anchor of a place to call home, their energies are spent just surviving — often on their own, often in the extremes of Utah's bitter winters and broiling summers, and often hungry, said featured speaker Rachel Santizo, who has been homeless and now works with people experiencing homelessness.

"The homeless suffer great fear and live in trauma every day. Can you imagine how you would feel not knowing when or even if you were going to eat? Could you imagine how you would feel, the stress of not having a safe place to sleep each and every night? Can you imagine the shame and humiliation of having your private life made public to everyone who passes you by?" Santizo said.

There are many reasons people become homeless, said Santizo, a member of Fourth Street Clinic's Consumer Advisory Board. For her, it was drug addiction.

Regardless of their journeys, all homeless people deserve respect and consideration, she said.

"The solution I see most powerful in helping break down all the barriers and walls that keep you trapped is compassion — compassion without judgement," she said.


The homeless suffer great fear and live in trauma every day. Can you imagine how you would feel not knowing when or even if you were going to eat? Could you imagine how you would feel, the stress of not having a safe place to sleep each and every night? Can you imagine the shame and humiliation of having your private life made public to everyone who passes you by?

–Rachel Santizo, featured speaker


Bill, whose full name was Bill Torma, found compassion at Fourth Street Clinic. He, too, served on its consumer advisory board. He often volunteered to talk to reporters to help people better understand homelessness and efforts of service providers. He died suddenly this fall.

Friends say it was if Torma had lived two lives. In recent years, he was "on fire" to give back to service providers who had helped him turn the corner on a very troubled past, said John Wilkes, outgoing chairman of the clinic's consumer advisory board.

By his own account, Torma spent 26 years in prison, much of the time for armed bank robbery. But he was also a man whose childhood was robbed from him when he was sexually molested. In a previous interview, Torma said he still struggled with the anger he felt toward his abuser.

By age 14, he was hooked on heroin.

At Fourth Street Clinic and through Valley Behavior Health's Co-Occurring Re-entry and Empowerment program, Torma found people who helped him believe in himself again.

"I kind of like me now. I feel more comfortable in my skin than I ever in my life have thanks to you guys. I don’t ever want to go back to who I was before. I was never happy. I’ve never felt so good in my life about myself and the possibility of actually enjoying and living a worthwhile life for the rest of it. This is like a new life to me," he said in a video produced by Fourth Street Clinic.

In August, Torma spoke to the incoming class at Roseman University's College of Dentistry. He reminded students about the importance of caring for all members of the community, even people who might not be able to afford to pay for services.

“His story is just amazing. He was a bank robber in prison for 30 years of his life. It’s a true rehabilitation story, which is really rare,” Wilkes said.

And he was but one of the people remembered at Wednesday night's vigil.

Utah Lt. Gov. Spencer Cox said the people honored Wednesday night included 37 people who were unsheltered and 33 formerly homeless people who were in safe, supportive housing when they died.

Nineteen were women, "the youngest just 20 years old," Cox said. The average age of the dead was 52.

"What we do know is, with more access to affordable health care and housing services, these deaths can be prevented," he said.


The solution I see most powerful in helping break down all the barriers and walls that keep you trapped is compassion — compassion without judgement.

–Rachel Santizo, featured speaker


The annual memorial service comes on the heels of an announcement by Salt Lake City Mayor Ralph Becker that an appointed commission will study and make recommendations whether to renovate or relocate homeless service providers that operate near Pioneer Park.

Pamela Atkinson, who emceed the vigil and is a longtime volunteer advocate for homeless people, has been asked to serve on the Homeless Service Site Evaluation Commission.

Atkinson said she believes conducting a community conversation about the facilities and services is a good idea, acknowledging there is a wide array of opinions on the topic.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with looking at what we're doing now and looking for the gaps in the services and saying, 'Is there something we can do that would be even better for our homeless friends?' And then we can say, 'Should we remodel the facilities we have or should we relocate them?'" she said.

While Utah has had many successes in reducing chronic homelessness and nearly eliminating homelessness among veterans because the development of supportive housing units, the effort has stalled in recent years. Some projects are in the planning stages, Atkinson said.

"We're seeing the progress that's been made, but it's just not fast enough," she said.

Torma died in housing, which was of comfort to friends and professionals who worked with him, they said.

Wilkes said he and Torma occasionally clashed as members of the clinic advisory board. Sometimes Torma would get upset and threaten to quit the group.

"He’d call back in a day or two and apologize, and he’d show up anyway," Wilkes said.

“Sometimes, he was really the only person I could count on. For a while there, Bill was it. He was my guy.”

Contributing: Rich Piatt

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